|Bits and Pieces
||[Apr. 4th, 2008|10:46 am]
You know it's going to be a less than stellar day when a co-worker (who's English is non-native) greets you with "Oh, do you have the allergies today?" making a round the face gesture. Does that mean that it shows that I don't feel well? Or is she just noticing the TEN pounds I've managed to pack on since the knee decided that walking was no longer on my exercise list? And thought of Pyratelady, running into the ladies room to see if I'd forgotten mascara. Sadly, no. I just look like crap. Freaking pollen. 43 years without anything but a pine pollen issue and now my cells have decided to freak out over any plant sex in the entire Metro area. |
I went to Target yesterday to buy tights and they've cleared them out. Well, now what do I do? (No, this isn't a joke. This is just how fashion-impaired I am. What you, think I wear Chico's because it's fasionable or cool? No. They match. The black matches the black, the brown matches the brown and they make many items that mix and match. Garanimals for me. They have all sorts of cool clothes in there (see Fetch's wardrobe) but I am stuck buying the Traveller's line because I get all tense at the thought of mixing and matching fabric textures) Tights are so much more comfortable than pantyhose. I HATE pantyhose. But the whole bare leg and foot thing just isn't going to work for me. What do you skirtwearers do?
My professional facade here at work continues to slip. Yesterday at a team meeting, discussing the recent departure of one of our teammates, and my boss making a joke about needing to find another woman so that we could maintain the nickname of "Ed's Angels", I said that I didn't care who he hired as long as she was normal-sized because I was tired of feeling like I was going to come around the corner and just obliterate a team member. Honestly, I work with a bunch of pixies. I'm the only one who can donate blood at our quarterly donation drives because I'm the only one who weighs over 110 pounds! I'm like a Great Dane amongst Chihuahuas. (Without the annoying yipping.) I am TWICE their size. Just a matter of time until I turn the cubecorner and wipe one of them flat. They won't stand a chance, unless they dive through my legs. Which, on second thought...nah, I like a woman with some meat on her bones.
And finally, I am in a full-out pout that I will miss the company and laughter of NCRF this weekend, although not the cold and rain. I suspect that I would probably actually be able to stay off of my feet more effectively there than I will at home -- where household projects like mowing the lawn, weeding, fixing the hole in the roof, switching out winter for summer clothes and the like will all beckon.
On the other hand, while the bed will be empty -- well, of humans, it may still require some of my attention. And I do have Martin Luther in from Netflix and the captain has said I could watch it without him, so maybe I'll get some of that laying down and staying off of my feet afterall.